


Contradiction Campaign

by idola



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Eating Disorders, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 22:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17670998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idola/pseuds/idola
Summary: It's annoying when Al-Thamen tells Judar what to do. He's their important fallen magi, and things are peaceful where they're keeping him cooped up in Rakushou after the destruction of Sindria. So he does the opposite. If they tell him to practice his magic, he doesn't. If they tell him to eat, he won't.It works, for a time.





	Contradiction Campaign

**Author's Note:**

> i want to post more fics because i leave a lot finished in my drafts. the vast majority of it is really weird stuff like this, but i guess ill never know if i prefer to post this kind of story or not if i dont try so (shrugs)

“I’m not eating that!” 

Judar was ten years old and spat half the words that left his mouth, from anger or excitement or a mix of the two. Right now, it was pure irritation. Al-Thamen’s goons were more annoying than he could ever remember.

That or there were just more of them than he could ever remember.

He was home, a new home - well, it _was_ home, but that was a long time ago and he’d mostly forgotten about it, if he was completely honest. His room was fitted with silk sheets instead of cotton, and patterned with droopy red flowers instead of floaty orange. But this was a dining room, not his bedroom. The seat next to him was empty along with the seat after that and the one after that.

To be clear, he was the only one sitting at the table. Al-Thamen’s dolls swarmed it, hovering over him to watch and make sure he didn’t leave or cause too much of a fuss. Why, when there were a dozen perfectly good chairs they could sit in? They could even get plates, shovel some food in their masks and out the other side. But that’d be pointless. They were just dolls.

That was why they didn’t get why he wasn’t eating. Even when he told them to go away, they didn’t. It was so that he wouldn’t get lost in the palace, they said.

“He’s always been like this,” a familiar voice grumbled. Ithnan. Judar’s scowl deepened. He’d know that voice _anywhere._

It’d deepen more, if it could, at the murmurs of agreement that spread through the crowd of dolls. Little difficult Judar, now wasn’t he!

“Either way, kid’s gotta eat,” Ithnan said. “Clear the vegetables. The meat, too, if he won’t touch it. Gyokuen says the best way to get a kid to eat is to start from square one. So tell us - what _will_ you eat?”

Judar pretended to think.

“C’mon, you already know. You wouldn’t be playing this game if you didn’t.”

“It’s not a game! Your food’s just seriously gross! And I want… I want… a peach!”

“Peaches,” Ithnan said. “Of course. Can’t get those in Parthevia. Someone get the kid some peaches. A lot of them, too. Or he won’t grow.”

Grow. He hated that word. Not because he didn’t want to grow - he did, to at _least_ Sinbad’s height - but because it was always used to make him do stuff he hated. He braced himself for sour vegetable juice to join his peaches. But it didn’t come. Instead, a huge basket of fresh and wonderfully sweet smelling peaches did.

The first bite was paradise. So was the second and third. That lasted until the forth whole peach, at which point he was promptly done.

“No no no,” Ithnan said. “You have to eat more than just that. Or you won’t grow.”

He refused.

Peaches were his favorites, absolute favorites. They didn’t grow in Parthevia or Sindria, so he was gonna have them now that he was in Kou. But not if Ithnan told him to. Because that was annoying.

They sat there for an hour, days, eye to eye, until Ithnan laughed at him and just left. “Whatever,” he said as he was passing the door. “If he wants to eat just a couple peaches today, let him. No snacks for him tomorrow, alright?”

He woke up so hungry he was sure his stomach was eating his body. He was taken to breakfast and he piled his plate full of rice and meat while Ithnan wasn’t watching to tell him he told him so.

Until he was - he’d just been finishing an errand up. “I told you so” was exactly what he said.

Judar bared his teeth in what he thought was threatening but the dolls just thought was funny. Fine. He’d show them. Judar didn’t touch lunch and ate just peaches for dinner.

So what if he couldn’t sleep! His stomach was eating itself out of his body again, but that was fine. He wasn’t gonna sleep anyway. He didn’t need it anymore.

Since meeting Serendine, he’d slept pretty well. Since returning, he didn’t.

At night, alone, he thought for just a moment of what had happened just a week earlier.

All the dead bodies didn’t matter. He was a magi and in the grand scheme of things, they were just ants. Even if he stomped all over them, it was fine.

Dirty, bloody pink hair didn’t bother him either. Not at all. Neither did the smell of perfume mixed with blood. Not the broken spider legs. Even if he remembered her like that, he still remembered her before then too. They’d spent a lot of time together.

A few times Serendine had stayed with him into the night because he wouldn’t stop hassling her to keep him entertained, longer and longer and longer, until she could barely keep her own eyes opened, sighed, and said she’d just stay with him until he slept. Then he’d sleep soundly until morning.

When she noticed him rise in the morning, she always forced a smile. “Good morning,” she’d say. No one else ever really greeted him like that.

It was weird. A little embarrassing. It should’ve been as hard to sleep when she was there as it was now. But that wasn’t the case at all. He often lay awake long into the night. Long into morning. He had a lot of time to think, so of course she ended up on his mind every now and then.

Not that it mattered anymore. She was dead.

It was just hard to keep his mind off her as he lay awake, sweaty from the summer humidity.

He wasn’t hungry when he rose to Al-Thamen’s complaints and looked at his red, sleepless eyes in the mirror. Nor was he hungry when they sat him down at an otherwise empty table.

Al-Thamen, persistent as they were, tried all day to make him eat. But he refused.

By nightfall they were in a fit. Even Ithnan’s rukh was nervous, though only annoyance made it to his face. “You’ve proved your point,” he said. “You’ve got to be hungry by now. That or you’re sick. Are you sick?”

“‘Course not.”

“Then prove it and eat, or I’ll go around telling everyone how pitiful you look, laying in bed groaning about a stomach ache or whatnot.”

He refused. Ithnan caved.

“Fine. Don’t eat. Show him to his room for the night.”

Victory.

It didn’t matter if his stomach was grumbling or if he’d never sleep. This was the first time he’d won against Ithnan, and it went straight to his head. He held his chin up high as he marched back to his room five steps ahead of his so-called escorts.

He heard Ithnan’s story back from Gyokuen the very next day. She personally brought him congee and personally sat beside him to make sure he ate it. So he did.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t go the whole day yesterday without eating, because he did that too.

Gyokuen led him out of his room and around the palace. Just when he was sure they weren't headed anywhere at all, she introduced him to her son.

“Judar, this is Hakuryuu. He’s shy and has trouble making friends. Do you think you could help him?”

Judar’s chest filled with pride at being the one Gyokuen asked. “No problem!” He marched on over to Hakuryuu and sized him up.

“I’m Judar! I’m a magi, a great magician of creation.”

The top of Hakuryuu’s head only reached Judar’s chin, and he looked up with watery eyes when Judar stood before him. He looked to his left and right, like he was trying to find something or someone to hide behind. But Gyokuen was too far for him to run to.

“I-I’m Ren Hakuryuu, third imperial prince.”

The rukh stirred - it was an unmistakable sign that he’d met a king. Judar smiled. It felt weird on his face after so long.

He played with Hakuryuu every now and then. Even though he initially judged him similar to Sharrkan, they were actually really different.

Sharrkan was gullible where Hakuryuu was careful. Hakuryuu hid behind others, but no one had let Sharrkan hide behind them. Come to think of it, he couldn’t recall seeing that brat in Sindria. Maybe he was still out there somewhere, snivelling and whining about this or that.

\---

A month after being back in Kou and Judar was allowed to do as he pleased, within reason.

He could meet with the royalty, which soon dropped in number - they were there one day, he conquered a dungeon with Kouen, and gone the next. Time passed oddly in dungeons and people often died when he was in one. So it wasn’t that surprising.

Hakuryuu wouldn’t wake up, Kouen became crown prince, and Judar could still do what he wanted. Nobody in the Organization was too beat up about Hakuyuu and Hakuren passing, so Judar followed suit. If they died, it just meant they were too weak to live. Hakuryuu was proof of that. He wasn’t doing too great, but he was hanging on.

As long as he brought someone along with him, Judar could go into town. He took advantage of it pretty often for a few months. Then Hakuryuu woke up.

Hakuryuu used to be even more energetic than Judar and a little ditzy, before his brothers died. Now he was gloomy and jumped when he heard Judar’s steps behind him.

“Hey, Hakuryuu! What’s up?”

Hakuryuu just stared.

“Wanna skip your classes with me?”

“No. I’m busy.”

Even if it was a rejection, getting him to respond at all felt like something of a victory when his rukh was in such a clear disarray. “Studious as ever, aren’t you? I skip all the time and I’ve turned out fine. Come onnn.”

“Find someone else to bother,” Hakuryuu said, turning his back and continuing towards the library. “I have better things to do.”

He walked off without looking back. Wasn’t _that_ interesting.

Without Hakuryuu to bother, Judar had to find other ways to skip training.

It was a game he liked to play. Judar fled from his shadows - dolls that didn’t talk much, just watched and reported - and explored the dead corners of the palace. He found a cockroach by some cellars and set it aflame.

See, he was trustworthy! That was magic training even if no one was there to see it.

He tried floating, too, but couldn’t figure it out and settled for a nap that lasted until dinner passed and lied once his shadows found him to put him to sleep that he had a cook prepare a real feast, just because they’d never know any better and it was fun to lie and have them believe him.

Judar - 3, shadows - 0.

Maybe his ribs were starting to show, but it was fine. The palace was peaceful. After spending so much time preparing for war with Falan, a peaceful place like this was boring. If they were gonna keep him cooped up here in Rakushou, he had to find a way to make it interesting.

Getting back at Ithnan for his nagging was just an added plus.

The best way to get out of work and back at Ithnan was to skip breakfast and run for it. Play hide-and-seek. His proudest days were the ones they didn’t find him at all.

He met Kougyoku and Kouha like that.

They were both scrawny - Kouha in a resilient kind of way and Kougyoku in an unpolished way. They weren’t impressive like Kouen who was stronger by the day, but they were fun to play with from time to time. Kougyoku got better at her fencing every day under his encouragement. Kouha got more and more talkative the older he got. Judar had heard some nasty rumors about him, but none of them seemed to be true.

Of course no proper prince would be running around slitting bunnies’ throats. That was what the servants said, at least. Killing them was _bad,_ and even a kid knew that.

That was what the servants said.

As a magi, Judar’s instinct was to support kings. Just doing what other magicians told him to do was boring. Kouha and Kougyoku were a welcome change in his routine, even if Kouha swore up and down that he didn’t need Judar hanging around and staring every time he saw him.

It took about a year for Kouha to open up, but when he did it was to tell Judar to spend his time supporting Kouen instead.

Parthevia’s politics were really different from Kou’s. Serendine would have rather died than support Barbarossa, but pretty much everyone supported Kouen here. Well, except for Hakuryuu. His rukh made that pretty clear.

In Parthevia, Falan had told Judar that his goal was to befriend Serendine because she could be used. She had the potential to cause war, and the Organization valued that more than anything else.

So it was weird that they ignored Hakuryuu. He had that potential, too. Judar’s instincts as a magi told him so. Maybe it was his troubled rukh, or the blood he’d inherited from his powerful father. But there was something about him… 

Judar kept his observations to himself. If the dolls were too stupid to notice, Judar wasn’t gonna be the one to tell them. Knowing something they didn’t was a quiet excitement bubbling in his stomach. So what if Hakuryuu didn’t want him around? It was his job as a magi to keep an eye on his kings, even when they didn’t want him around at all.

With his secret hanging in the back of his head, Judar sneered at the dolls who led him to his training and meals. They were so stupid. As dumb as dirt.

So was Ithnan, in a lot of ways.

As soon as Ithnan tentatively declared him cured of his childish games with food, Judar pushed back harder than ever.

It was annoying if Ithnan thought he’d won. Judar was keeping score, and he was winning 10-2. The two losses were a dud - he’d done too much magic training those days and was too hungry and tired to be stubborn, even eating his vegetables. The humiliation of everyone in the room knowing he’d lost was enough to steel his resolve to never let it happen again.

So he didn’t. He ate when he wanted to. No more, not even when they told him to.

Well known as the pickiest eater in the palace, resilient in Kouha’s attempts to give him snacks from the old tribes of Kou and unwilling to eat Kougyoku’s colorful experiments into cooking with her retainer, Judar maintained his front. It was a single act of defiance in what was ordinarily a rather obedient person, and he clung to it harder than anything else.

If he asked and the dolls said fish was for dinner, but it turned out to be pork, he refused to eat it.

If they said it’d be pork but it turned out to be fish, he wouldn’t eat that either. No surprises, and no vegetables, either.

Ithnan was absolutely sick of it. But he had no choice but to give in. He was, in this way, Judar’s inferior.

“You’re going to have to eat normally someday, kid.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“If you don’t, you’ll ruin everyone else’s meals for the rest of your life.”

Seeing as he was _still_ only allowed to eat under Al-Thamen’s supervision, even though he knew the palace like the back of his hand and would never get lost, he only had one thing to say. “Good.”

The surprises at mealtimes stopped altogether. They asked what he wanted in the morning and prepared whatever he said perfectly. Sometimes there were additions, but they were always on the side. He ignored them.

Judar - 11, Ithnan - 2. Not bad.

\---

Five years into his life in Kou and Judar had found his place as the magi of a handful potential kings. Gyokuen told him that Koumei was ready for a djinn, so he opened a dungeon for him.

“Kougyoku’s got potential too,” he said offhandedly as Koumei and his platoon disappeared into the bright doors of the dungeon. The only time he’d ever gone with a candidate from Kou was when Kouen conquered his first dungeon. Gyokuen had told him that the experience would be good for him, and Judar had agreed wholeheartedly. Dungeons were weird and cool. After that he was pretty much told to stay out of it, though. Because it’d interfere with the djinn’s choice. A magi’s presence might make them look more worthy than they are, she said.

Judar recalled the fear in Agares’ eyes when he saw Judar. His confusion as he looked between Kouen’s pristine rukh and Judar’s.

That wasn’t what she meant, was it?

“Kougyoku,” Gyokuen repeated. “Is she one of Koutoku’s children?”

Judar nodded.

“I will meet her,” Gyokuen promised.

He smiled without meaning to. Gyokuen really was better than Ithnan. She turned, tugging on the hand she was holding, and Judar followed.

Out of sight, out of mind. Koumei came out in a couple days as an official dungeon conqueror.

Honestly, he wasn’t that suitable. He wasn’t a king that appealed to Judar’s tastes, even if he was a talented strategist. But he was his king now, so they had to see each other every now and then.

He just couldn’t help but think of all the better choices out there when they did interact.

For example, Judar saw Sinbad sometimes. His job was to raise dungeons, and when he wasn’t doing that in Kou he did it for their allies in other countries.

Sinbad thought it was funny to capture them. It was, sometimes. Sinbad had picked up lots of rukh from Sindria, back when Judar helped destroy it. Seeing it change and grow with him was fun.

But there were also times he didn’t like seeing Sinbad much, since he never really forgot about what happened. How could he? It was pretty gross. A lot of people died.

It’d be weird if Sinbad did forget. Way weirder than how things were now.

He was king of a new Sindria in no time, even though he didn’t have a magi. That shouldn’t happen. A great king needed a great magi. If they didn’t, then there was no reason to have magi in the first place.

Well, whatever. Sinbad wasn’t that great of a king. He’d fallen once, and he’d fall again. Judar couldn’t wait to push his face into the dirt again.

Then he’d stop looking at Judar like that. He’d just be a nobody, not Al-Thamen’s biggest pain in the ass. So what if he’d managed to be a thorn in their side for the past ten years or so. That didn’t mean he’d always be there. He’d understand that he needed a magi to accomplish great things.

He’d stop stealing all of Judar’s dungeons, too. He didn’t need any advice on how to dress or what exercises he should do.

But since Sinbad wouldn’t see him in Kou anyway, it was fine to follow his advice.

Sit-ups were hard at first, but he kept it up. Starting with five in the morning and five in the evening, he worked his way up to a sizable amount. His stomach was a little flabby because he wasn’t allowed to leave the table until he ate. It looked bad. Sinbad was gonna comment on it for sure.

Little by little, so as to not raise suspicion, he ate less at meals. No one paid that much attention to him at dinner anymore, so long as he ate _something._ It was easy. How had he never thought about it before?

It worked, too. Women _were_ into his new look. They didn’t see a lot of skin in Kou’s palace and swooned while he talked to them.

They were into it. He wasn’t. Not really.

When Sinbad said it’d make him popular, Judar was kind of imagining that Sinbad would be into it, not women. The result was boring. When he pushed, they gave in without a fight. Boring. They let him do whatever he wanted, even if he didn’t know their names or care about their lives. They didn’t comment even if he was rough with them or didn’t look at their faces.

Boring.

Ithnan said he was just at that point in his life when he made everything out to be more dramatic than it was. Then he laughed and went back on it - “Actually, you’ve always been in that phase, haven’t you?”

Whatever! Ithnan was just jealous because he was a normal magician instead of a great magi.

After Falan died, Ithnan was sort of in charge of him. So he was the one who was in charge of noticing Judar’s habits and nagging on them, sometimes even before Judar himself noticed them.

His changing interests in people, for one. Sure, there were a couple months that he paid attention to the palace women and waved at them as he passed. Then he didn’t, because he wasn’t interested in their full submission. It was boring.

So he ignored them now. It was pretty easy, since none of them were really assertive enough to ask why he stopped caring. They didn’t care about stuff like that in the first place.

“Tired of women?” Ithnan asked as he accompanied Judar back to his training after he’d wandered off.

Judar shrugged.

“Well, that’s no surprise. You don’t seem the type to like _women_ much.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean…” 

Ithnan laughed like it was obvious. “You’ll figure it out. Hopefully it’ll be a better phase than when you wouldn’t eat.”

None the wiser, was he?

Judar - 12, Ithnan - 2.

\---

At some point it went from purposefully ignoring food to purposelessly ignoring it.

He was already tired of girls, so he wasn’t really trying to get in shape for them anymore. The only other reason he did this was to get back at the dolls in Al-Thamen, but they weren’t too bad lately. Even Ithnan was less annoying than he used to be when Judar was younger.

Judar did his hair the same every day, wore the same kinds of clothes every day, exercised the same way every day. It wasn’t about liking or disliking it. That was just what he did. Eating as little as he could get away with became a part of that, too.

His flab faded. His abs became more obvious. His face looked sharper, less childlike, more masculine.

He looked way better than before. That was why they caught on again.

It was around then that it clicked. Something in his mind changed, did a 180. It made sense.

He was a magi.

Judar was growing, so Ithnan and his goons said he had to eat. He didn’t. Maybe they’d understand that if they were magi, but they were just magicians - a breed of human like any other. Magi were more than that - divine beings, magicians of creation. The only ones able to open the gate to the next world over and bestow the power of djinn on ordinary people.

What use did he have for food? He didn’t get hungry when he didn’t eat. His mind was freer. His hands shook and tapped against his hip bones, but he didn’t need to hold a sword to fight. Rather, it was proof of the magoi coursing through his veins, purer than that of a human’s. It couldn’t be helped if it made his skin vibrate.

Other people needed food because they were humans. He didn’t because he was a magi. Simple as that. He explained it just like that in his head all the time, not bothering to say it out loud to Al-Thamen’s mindless lackeys, and just like that expected them to understand. They didn’t. Because they were mindless.

The smell of food was the hardest part. If he passed a kitchen, he couldn’t get the smell of food out of his head for hours. It clung to his hair and the insides of his mouth, reminding him of what food tasted like. That it’d be _so_ nice to eat. That he’d been avoiding food for long enough, he’d made his point, he could eat a feast all by himself with no one watching and they wouldn’t have to know and it’d taste so damn good.

He never did, though. Because then he’d lose, and he was never going to lose again.

Not to Ithnan. Not to Sinbad.

Speaking of which, Sinbad wasn’t impressed with his progress. He just looked at him with those eyes Judar hated.

Sinbad didn’t have a magi. He didn’t understand their thoughts, motives, and methods.

In the first place, he’d never known anything about Judar. Their whole relationship was fabricated by the lies Al-Thamen had told him and Serendine and when Sinbad learned the truth it was already too late to start over.

So he was stubborn. He didn’t want to understand. Couldn’t.

That was all.

Besides, Sinbad was a singularity. Judar heard that word get thrown around about him a few times. It meant that he got everything right on the first try when fate was left to its own devices. But as a fallen magi, fate’s control on his life was shaky at best. He could break its chain if he worked hard enough.

Judar might be a magi, sure, but that didn’t mean he didn’t value hard work.

His body was better than most people’s, but it could still be even better than that. It could be something nobody could ignore. It could be something that no one but him could achieve.

It was energizing. Never had he felt so lightheaded and so in control of the people around him.

They looked at him, wide eyed, glancing wildly between his thin arms and hard hips. The strange sheen of gold that immediately told them he could have any feast in the world if he wanted. Only then would they meet his eye and look away and never meet them again. They were in awe of him. It was special, how he could meet their eyes and sneer.

But it had a bad side, too. Peaches didn’t taste as good with dirt in them.

\---

Hakuryuu spent a lot of time with his sister and Seishun, and not a lot of time with anyone else. Sometimes he was able to go months without seeing Judar. That was a good thing. Not because he hated Judar. It was because he didn’t, not really, no matter how hard he tried.

In the time Hakuryuu spent struggling to become an adult, Judar changed drastically.

He’d always been on the thin side, but when he called Hakuryuu’s name as carefree as ever, he looked by reflex. That one look was enough to make Hakuryuu’s skin crawl.

At some point, he’d replaced his wardrobe with clothes from abroad. With that change, looking at him was… difficult.

His ribs were harder to look away from than the small muscles he was probably trying to show off. His shirt was thin enough to see the shape of spider’s legs ribs on his chest. When Hakuryuu finally tore his eyes away from Judar’s ribs, they landed on his elbows. They were nearly twice the size of his upper arms.

He shivered involuntarily.

“What’s up?” Judar asked. “Bad with the cold? Huh, I didn’t know that.”

Unlike with anyone else, when he spoke to Hakuryuu he was never mocking. Judar decided that his own assumptions were fact and regarded his shiver with only vague curiosity.

Hakuryuu didn’t want Judar to think that he was weak to anything, cold included, but he didn’t want to say what had really made him shiver. Judar wrapped a bony arm around Hakuryuu’s back, letting his hand fall on his shoulder. “When’re you gonna come to a dungeon with me? You must be getting sick of all this training… and it’s all pointless, you know? Without a djinn, you can’t do anything.”

Hakuryuu gulped. “I’m busy. Please let me train.”

“Aw, you’re no fun.”

What was Hakuryuu supposed to say at a time like this? He searched his memory for a precedence, but all he could think of was when his sister came down with the flu in a particularly nasty season. He’d worried sick, preparing her more soup than any one person could realistically eat.

Hakuryuu took a deep breath to steady his pulse. Judar… the Lord Priest was not his concern. In fact, it was better if he was sick. It meant destroying Al-Thamen would be easier.

He shrugged out of Judar’s loose grasp and motioned for his instructor to continue. He tried to push Judar’s appearance to the back of his mind.

It was better this way. It was better like this.

\---

Judar learned what an intervention was when he was sixteen. A real one, not the half-assed nagging Ithnan used to do when he was a kid.

They decided that he was too thin.

“Look at yourself,” Ithnan grumbled. “Like a beggar in the street.”

Beggars were completely different. They didn’t have any food. He did. He just also had the power to not eat it.

Ithnan wouldn’t understand that. He was probably flabby under all those robes. That or he was a doll, too. A really complicated one.

“You’re not a kid anymore,” Ithnan said. “Aren’t you too old for this?”

“You’d know,” Judar said, offhandedly. “How old are you, anyway? Your hair’s starting to gray.”

Ithnan didn’t react like Sinbad would have. “Nice try,” he said. “But it’s not working today. Gyokuen said you have to eat, so you need to eat. More than just peaches. You’ll eat meat at every meal, and a whole bowl of soup.”

Judar bit back a groan. He could get out of it. He always did.

“You’ll have escorts around the palace so you don’t run off, too. If you act like a kid we’ve gotta treat you like one.”

Shit.

The worst part was that Ithnan really did make good on his promise.

Under every single mask was someone counting the bites.

One, two, three, four, five. It continued and continued. If his bites were smaller they counted in fractions. Five and a half, six and three quarters, on and on it went.

He was sure of it. They were the ones counting.

Three times a day he was forced into that room with dozens of masked men to keep watch and count his bites. It was really too much food. Way more than anyone needed to eat.

He was full after a few bites, and they wanted him to drink soup on top of that? Disgusting. He was sick of the saltiness and vinegar and the way his stomach stuck out past his hip bones.

As they wanted, he gained a solid amount of weight. His lower ribs were still slightly visible, but the ribs above his shirt easily disappeared under fat.

For the first couple weeks, he avoided seeing people he knew. It was just too gross.

He did as many sit-ups as he could handle. If he couldn’t have his ribs, his abs would need to pick up the pace.

Easy enough. The swelling of his stomach dissipated and his abs became more defined. It wasn’t as bad as he thought it’d be.

“Judar, you look _great_!”

Predictably, Kouha was the first to swoon at his progress. He was closest in age to Judar out of the whole royal family, and every day Judar wished he wasn’t. Koumei wouldn’t be watching and making sure he didn’t escape, then, and maybe Kouha’d find someone else to bother.

“Have you been working out?”

Judar slapped Kouha’s hands away from his stomach. “Obviously. You think these just appeared one day?”

“I mean, you _are_ a magi.”

“Like I’d take the easy way out.” To be honest, he’d forgotten he could.

It was annoying that Kouha liked what Ithnan was making him do to his body, because Judar sure as hell didn’t. His face was already getting round, and he was glad his clothes hid his thighs. No amount of sit-ups would save them from flabbiness. The same went for his upper arms.

Maybe he should try something other than sit-ups. But they worked, and Judar was a man of habit.

He was sent to Balbadd and kept on just as short of a leash there. He couldn’t even die without Al-Thamen yanking the leash back down, waking him up from a long nap with a laundry list of instructions.

Balbadd was messy. That was really all there was to say on the matter. But he kept thinking about it anyway, long after he returned to Kou.

Thinking about it and being urged by Ithnan, then Gyokuen when he failed, to do something other than glare into the harsh red pillars of the courtyard.

“Judar, won’t you come down from there? I want to take a walk with you.”

He didn’t want to do _anything_ for them. But all he could do on his own was childishly glare into nothing. Resigned, he jumped from the tree he’d been sitting in all morning and let Gyokuen lay her head on his chest.

Disgusting. He refused to meet Ithnan’s eyes.

Gyokuen took him by the arm, leading him around the palace like he was her new toy. But he was an old toy already and they both knew it. She was far more interested in Aladdin’s powers.

Everyone was.

It was like all the effort they’d put into making him fall was pointless since the beginning, because he was really only their second choice. But he knew it wasn’t. Because if that was the case, Gyokuen wouldn’t be hanging off his arm and smirking now.

“There’s no need to feel blue all the time,” Gyokuen said. “Not when the world is spinning so quickly towards the path we’ve been aiming for. Just look at what’s going on in the west.”

He tried to tune her out, but that only worked when there was something else to focus on. The path she led him through was dead silent.

“Don’t worry. No matter what, you’ll always be our little Judar.”

She made him sick. It was hard to get her face out of his mind long after he was free to stare into nothing on his own again.

He had to do something.

Ithnan died in Sindria, not long after Judar met Aladdin. That news gave shape to a new plan, no, an old plan. One he’d only dreamed of before.

He wanted to be Hakuryuu’s magi.

Even if he captured someone else’s dungeon, that didn’t change. They’d just capture another dungeon together. He’d need the power to beat Gyokuen.

Judar raised dungeons until he found one that was perfect. When Hakuryuu was ready - and he would be, in time - they’d conquer it.

He returned to Rakushou. He was done sulking in trees now.

His bracelets jingled when he moved. They’d gotten looser again, and the sound caught everyone’s attention as he walked. Gyokuen was always off in her own little world, and the dolls who Ithnan had made keep an eye on him were soon repurposed.

Why was it important to make sure he was fed when they had their sights on Aladdin now? No one was around to nag him about his loss anymore. No one was around to tsk-tsk and get him new gold that fit when he complained. It was freeing, the thing he’d always wanted. But it was emptier than he thought it’d be.

Because with no one nagging him and telling him to eat more, he wasn’t doing it to be contradictory. He was just doing it because he didn’t know what else to do. And with that simple switch, all those eyes that’d once seemed to look at him with reverence now looked like pity.

Stop looking. Stop _looking_. He focused his anger on his magic training.

It payed off when Hakuryuu came around. They captured Belial’s dungeon together, just like he knew they would.

\---

Hakuryuu did not regret taking Judar’s hand. They worked well together. Judar was always saying that and their results were always agreeing. They were a great team. They had to be to have killed Gyokuen together.

However, there was something that worried him.

Judar’s eating habits were extraordinary, and not in the ways he’d been expecting.

He had often smelled vaguely like peaches when inviting Hakuryuu to conquer a dungeon, and from that it was clear to him that Judar loved fruit. The fact that he never ate any peaches now contradicted that.

When he asked, Judar had an easy answer. “They’re out of season. How am I supposed to eat them?”

“Can’t you grow them with magic?”

Judar grimaced. “Life magic’s tricky.”

“Then practice it.”

The conversation didn’t go exactly how he’d been imagining it. Talking about these things was not something Hakuryuu had ever needed to do, and Judar clearly wasn’t interested in what Hakuryuu had to say about it - his answers were uncharacteristically short.

The more Hakuryuu went over the conversation in his mind, the more he recalled how Judar had looked years ago. Very, very thin. So sickly that Hakuryuu had to force himself not to stare when Judar pestered him.

Things were different now. Al-Thamen was gone. He’d always assumed that they’d been the cause, in some way or another. But now he wasn’t so sure.

It wasn’t a problem when they fought Gyokuen, so he gave Judar space. They ate separately.

\---

It was difficult to rationalize why it happened.

Actually, more than difficult, it was totally useless.

Judar just didn’t eat anymore. That was all there was to it. Years of training to get there and he made it.

Now that he was here, he wished his wasn’t. 

Sometimes Hakuryuu cooked. It was something he always vaguely knew Hakuryuu was into but never the extent. As it turned out, he was the type to make huge feasts just for himself, then pawn the rest off on servants too scared to say no when he was done. Whether his cooking was good or not, Judar didn’t know. He probably never would. Honestly, he wasn’t that curious. New foods weren’t really his thing. Food in general wasn’t really his thing.

But sometimes he smelled it on Hakuryuu’s hair and his mouth filled with saliva, begging him to eat the leftovers he knew were in the kitchen. Sometimes he dreamed of the smell and just _eating._ Dreams were always weird, but food dreams were weirder than most. Especially when his eyes shot open because it was too much even when it was a fake peach in his dream hands.

With Al-Thamen under Hakuryuu’s rule, he was never forced to sit for long meals, watched as he ate, knowing they were counting his bites. It was so _easy._

Eating wasn’t the only thing he had complete freedom to do now, either.

He and Hakuryuu had lots of lost time to make up for.

The way Hakuryuu touched him was a first. He wasn’t like the nameless servants and army captains Judar used to fool around with. It was more… more… 

More personal. They had all sorts of dumb arguments a couple inches from each others’ faces.

More painful, too. Hakuryuu knew how to leave a mark.

They were an open secret. Everyone with eyes knew that they stood too close, were together for too long, and walked in and out of all the same rooms together, whether they were audience halls or bedrooms. Hakuryuu kissed like he was shy but fucked like he was needy. All of it was the best Judar had ever had.

Hakuryuu’s arms, strong as they were, loosened their grip once he was done, back to shyness.

“You’re good,” Judar mumbled into his pillow. “Real good.”

“Go to sleep,” Hakuryuu said. His steady voice was betrayed by his pleased pink rukh.

He breathed soft onto Judar’s bare neck. Everything about this was all of what Judar had dreamed of without knowing he was dreaming.

Much better than shitty food dreams. His stomach growled, trying to pick a fight as usual.

Hakuryuu’s breath against his neck stopped for a moment, waiting, then resumed when Judar made no move.

He knew, didn’t he? About the painfully stubborn feeling in his stomach. He knew and didn’t say anything because he understood Judar perfectly and problems didn’t exist as long as they didn’t let them.

They fit into a routine that was entirely new for Judar. He was used to being followed by dolls, or at least watched from a distance no matter what he did. But now he could be the one watching. So that’s exactly what he did.

Judar’s ears perked up as Hakuryuu sighed. Dealing with all the soldiers in the palace was still new to him, and no amount of control-freak tendencies would make micromanaging a bunch of small fry for hours fun. “I’m going to rest a bit,” he said once the soldiers were out of earshot.

At this time of day, rest translated to cooking. Hakuryuu couldn’t justify naps, but he sure as hell could find time to justify making a feast for no one.

He walked off in the direction of the kitchen he’d probably always used, not bothering to see if Judar was following. Knowing he wouldn’t.

He did.

His feet moved on his own and he did.

Hakuryuu didn’t comment, didn’t react with surprise and teasing. He just continued as if Judar weren’t there. He talked a little about inconsequential things as he cooked but mostly focused on his task. Judar didn’t think he focused that well when he was chatting. His hands always slowed when he spoke.

When the food was done, he set the plates out. An empty one for Judar. He filled his own.

Judar stared at the large plate. Filled with food, it would be a huge amount.

He took a piece of meat - a leg of a duck or chicken or some other little bird - and set it on the plate. It was a huge amount.

He glanced at Hakuryuu’s plate. It was filled with an enormous amount, much more than just a leg, that he was eating naturally. Without thinking.

Hakuryuu was amazing. Not only could he cook food, he could eat it.

Judar took a bite.

It was delicious. The best thing he’d ever tasted. He chewed until it was gone in his mouth and swallowed nothing.

He left without eating more. The whole of the leg made it to his legs and clung to him like a ghost. Even though he’d only taken one bite, the rest of it joined the bite he’d taken as he thought about it. One hundred sit ups. 

It was stupid, but that was the way he was. He got used to things. His hair, his clothes, even down to his name. A bunch of lies other people told him that eventually became the truth.

At least this was something that was his from start to finish.

\---

Hakuryuu watched as Judar lost a significant amount of weight in a very short amount of time.

He knew that Judar was pleased with his newfound freedom. Hakuryuu didn’t have to ask him to know that. It was apparent in the way he followed Hakuryuu around on that staff of his without a care in the world, a smile plastered on his face.

When he stretched, his ribs stuck out. It reminded him of when they used to stick out horribly. Not for long, but they did.

He didn’t think Judar was doing it on purpose. If he were, he would have just eaten the other day when he followed Hakuryuu into the kitchen. Instead he did something very strange. Take one leg, take one bite, leave. He’d never seen anything like it.

He hadn’t seen Judar the day after that, and not until evening of the day after that. By then he acted like nothing happened. He was a good actor when he set his mind to it.

Hakuryuu wanted to do something. The question was what. Just telling him to do something worked when it was magic practice, but he didn’t think Judar would do something like this for him.

There was a decade long gap in their relationship. They were just kids the last time they were truly close. But even then they didn’t tell each other everything.

A lot could have happened since then. A lot did happen. There were things Judar didn’t know about him, too. 

He thought about bringing it up where he could see it best - when Judar was stripped before him. Even that became less frequent as time went on. Judar quickly lost interest in being pleasured, even if he was fully willing to do anything to satisfy Hakuryuu. To be frank, it was irritating. Not caring was a lot easier. But if he was being honest with himself, he’d always cared even when he tried his hardest not to.

Before he could figure out what to say, Aladdin took Judar away.

\---

Meeting Alibaba after losing to Aladdin was definitely one of the weirdest things that’d ever happened to Judar.

Whatever, though. He’d take free labor. Even when it talked back sometimes.

“Is that all you’re going to eat?”

Normally he’d say yes. Simple and to the point, no one could argue with it. He was a magi and no one argued with him about anything. But Alibaba’s voice wavered with… pity, was it? Disgusting. Disgusting! 

Even Hakuryuu had noticed before this’d happened. People _could_ tell, and they found it pitiful. They didn’t understand the work that went into it. That or they didn’t value that kind of work.

Just to spite him, Judar ate a few more nasty little mushrooms. He felt like his stomach would explode. Then, when Alibaba lost interest after seeing it was a normal amount, he finally stopped.

He could throw up. He wanted to. Anything to get rid of that stuffed feeling. It wasn’t a normal amount. It was a huge amount.

But he couldn’t just do that. He wasn’t sick and didn’t know how to force himself sick and Alibaba was right there.

Things continued. He ate as much as he could out of spite.

Needless to say, he gained a sickening amount of weight. Alibaba didn’t comment.

…So that was okay, was it? Eating like he normally did wasn’t but eating so much he could die was. Alright. 

It was fine, anyway. He had no desire to eat whatever plants Alibaba found. His hunger grew the more he ate but his appetite didn’t. Nothing tasted good enough to lose control over, so he only ate until Alibaba lost interest. The minute he was away from that stupid doll, Judar would be back to eating like normal and by the time Hakuryuu saw him he’d be handsome as he could be.

But it was weird. His head was pretty clear, considering the situation he was in. Much clearer than it was when he was making war preparations with Hakuryuu.

Honestly, he felt kind of cheated. Alibaba was so not worth wasting his clarity on. Not like Hakuryuu.

\---

Hakuryuu had long since given up hope of Judar being alive when he learned that against all odds, he did live. Survived.

Stubborn even in dying, wasn’t he? The same could be said of Alibaba, if he made it back without Judar killing him out of annoyance.

Even though a few years had passed since they last saw each other, Judar hadn’t changed at all. Not even where Hakuryuu wished he had.

In comparison, maybe Hakuryuu was too different. But Judar didn’t seem to mind.

Seeing each other again was weird for about the first five seconds. Then their familiar routine of bickering about this or that started up exactly where it’d left off.

“—This is where I have those nobles from Reim I told you about working. They’re pretty shitty farmers, though.”

“Why don’t you try farming if they’re so bad at it?”

“…Anyway! Hey, are you done here yet? It’s pretty boring. Nothing exciting ever happens.”

Then he should have come back to Rakushou sooner. Even if Hakuryuu wasn’t there, he was sure Kougyoku would have liked to see him. But… she probably would have worried, too. 

The vague feeling of anxiety settling in his stomach didn’t lift as time went on.

Hakuryuu didn’t want to make the same mistake as before.

He wanted to talk to Judar more honestly, and have conversations about all sorts of things that neither of them ever got to tell anyone else. Judar telling him his birth name was a good start to that. But it was still hard to broach the topic of his… aversion to food.

Besides, Hakuryuu was just happy to have him back. Things weren’t boring with Judar around. Between him and Aladdin, there was really no competition between who the better magi was. That didn’t keep Judar from competing, but Aladdin did tend to bring out the worst in people.

\---

Hakuryuu offered to make food for everyone after the Kou Trading Company’s first harvest.

With fresh vegetables offered as thanks from all the surrounding regions, it’d be a waste not to. He spent hours preparing enough for the five of them - himself, Kougyoku, Morgiana, Alibaba, and Aladdin.

When he was finally done, he gathered them from the room they often worked in. Judar was skipping as he often did. Good.

As soon as everyone was seated around the table, Alibaba shifted nervously. “Aren’t you going to get Judar?” Alibaba asked. Hakuryuu grimaced.

Hadn’t they spent a long time together on the Mother Dragon? He should know better. He glanced around. Kougyoku wouldn’t meet his eyes. Neither would Aladdin. 

He couldn’t just say, ‘well, Judar doesn’t really _eat_ ’ if Alibaba didn’t already know it, could he? Because if he didn’t know, then that meant that on the trip back to their world Judar had been eating fine. And that was the first Hakuryuu had heard of that. His eye twitched. Why would he eat normally around Alibaba of all people?

Alibaba looked around, curious at the sudden drop in conversation. “What, is he sick or something? Didn’t look too great yesterday, sure, but I always get hungry when I’m sick.”

He didn’t know when to stop, did he?

Alibaba stood up awkwardly after a minute of silence, laughing nervously. “Well! I’ll go get him, then! Wouldn’t want him to miss out!”

Kougyoku stood up soon after, finished. “Sorry, I have a lot of work to do still… but it was very good,” she said, and promptly left.

That left Aladdin for Hakuryuu to take his annoyance out on.

“Sorry,” Aladdin said. “What was I supposed to say?”

Why did he know anything about it, anyway? Apart from them both being magi, he and Judar weren’t close.

“Don’t look at me like I’m your sworn enemy or something,” Aladdin mumbled. “I saw it with Solomon’s Wisdom.”

“I wasn’t looking at you like anything,” Hakuryuu grumbled. He served himself more dumplings. If no one else was going to eat them, he was. That was how he always was with his food. “In any case, how Judar eats is none of my business.” 

Aladdin tried to force a smile. “I’m surprised he’s still around, living like that.”

“Magi are invincible,” Hakuryuu said, a little sarcastically. “Do you not think so?”

“Of course we’re not.”

Once Hakuryuu left, leaving the food for Aladdin to clean (he could hear it without asking - “since you feel the need to be a part of it, why don’t you at least be a useful part of it!” - those two were always bickering), Aladdin stood and walked to the window.

“What are you going to do?” Aladdin asked, leaning on the sill. “And don’t pretend like you’re not there. Your rukh’s giving you away.”

Just after the words left his mouth, Aladdin pulled back into the room. Just in time, too - if he hadn’t moved, a peach would’ve hit him pretty hard.

“Are you mad that I talked to Hakuryuu?”

“Get lost.”

Aladdin shrugged. “Fine. But Alibaba’s probably still looking for you, so you’re going to need to eat eventually. If you want to keep him from knowing, I mean.”

“I _said_ get lost.”

\---

Kou wasn’t great like it was under Hakuryuu. For the month he’d known Hakuryuu’s rule, anyway.

Judar was kinda miffed, because he’d spent a lot of time and energy on their dungeon conquerors. They had no business falling to the level they were at now.

Metal vessels were kinda pointless when Sinbad had a lock on them, though. So he didn’t complain too much about it. It was a shame that Hakuryuu didn’t keep Belial, thought. Bringing it along would’ve made him look even more suspicious than Zagan, thanks to its abilities, but it was a strong djinn.

He complained about it to Hakuryuu a lot. More than he actually cared. He probably deserved getting slammed against a wall for it, but maybe that was his goal from the start.

Hakuryuu was a lot more touchy now than he used to be. It was nice and all, but Judar was fine just getting him off. Watching Hakuryuu struggle to care of his often incomprehensible needs just made him tired more often than not. So his plan this time was to blow Hakuryuu when he got the chance and bolt.

If only Hakuryuu didn’t insist on undressing Judar first.

“…You lost weight again.”

His ribs filled with air. “Did I?”

Hakuryuu ran his hands across Judar’s backbones. “Pull your arms forward.”

Judar did so.

“I can see your ribs under your scapula.”

“The fuck’s a scapula?”

He couldn’t see to tell, but he was sure Hakuryuu rolled his eyes at that. “That’s beside the point.” 

Judar yawned. Hakuryuu wasn’t good at picking good times to argue. The longer this went on, the more he’d rather sleep.

“…Being quiet about it didn’t work,” Hakuryuu said. “This is… one thing about you that I don’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand?”

“I don’t know. I was asking you.”

“I mean, that’s just how it is. No point in trying to get it.”

“You’re starving,” Hakuryuu said. “Anyone who looks at you can see that. Anyone who looks closer can see that you’re proud of it.”

“Mm.”

“Will you be proud if you die of starvation, too?”

“I won’t die. I’m a magi.”

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“Nah. I ate yesterday.”

Hakuryuu didn’t respond. That was weird to say, wasn’t it?

At least it got him out of having to fake it.

\---

It quickly reached the point where people quieted when he entered a room again. Judar was bored of that reaction, especially when it came from someone like Kougyoku.

Knowing that he’d make a big deal out of it, Judar avoided being alone with Alibaba. Aladdin, too. Things were awkward between them now, but as soon as Aladdin forgot about the whole trying to kill each other thing he’d be getting in his face about it. Judar just knew it.

Hakuryuu was safe because he’d already said what was bothering him and because unlike the others, the more time spent alone with Hakuryuu, the better.

Sure, he kept trying to sit Judar in front of some food - just the two of them, alone together, so he wouldn’t get mad - but that was an easy fix. All he had to do was walk away.

Unfortunately, he ended up walking right into Alibaba like that.

He tried to walk back the way he came, but Alibaba wasn’t having it. “Wait,” he said and grabbed Judar’s shoulder. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Without waiting for Judar’s inevitable protests, Alibaba continued.

“You’re _really_ thin. Are you okay?” He paused, then realizing he didn’t think Judar would respond, continued. “Uh, I mean… Look, I know Hakuryuu’s trying to get you to eat. And don’t look at me like that! He didn’t tell me, it’s just what anyone would do. He cares about you, okay? I care! We all do.”

“Gross,” Judar muttered as he picked Alibaba’s hand off. “Go snivel over someone else if you’re lonely.”

\---

Hakuryuu was stubborn as shit. It was absolutely ridiculous, and long past the point of being charming. Having decided that letting Judar starve himself was counterproductive, he now woke him up with breakfast.

To his credit it was a breakfast different from what Judar was used to. It was peaches and warm baozi with hot tea served in the side of his room instead of in an overbearingly empty dining room. Hakuryuu ate the same beside him - no, he ate more. Always more. And he looked _great_. He knew it was just the smell of the food on his empty stomach that was making him think it was fine, but that alone was enough to make Judar bring a bite to his face.

It was good. Really good.

Judar ate slowly. Then quickly, ignoring the hot filling burning the roof of his mouth. Soon it was gone.

Normally he’d skip a day after eating like that, but Hakuryuu consistently made warm and inviting breakfasts. So he consistently ate, mechanically, like someone else was in control of his body and forcing him to. 

But it wasn’t really someone else, because he was still there. Responding to Hakuryuu’s smalltalk like always.

It was weird. Nothing in particular clicked in his mind, other than that he really wanted everyone to leave him alone about it. For the most part he just felt possessed every morning - Hakuryuu only bothered with the one meal.

Only once the plate was cleared did his possession leave him and let him feel with full force the weight of all that he’d eaten. He fully realized that he was being dramatic. He repeated it internally, again and again: Hakuryuu ate that amount and looked fine. More than fine.

But Hakuryuu wasn’t lazy, so Judar was sure to do his sit-ups. It was a part of his routine. Hakuryuu watching wasn’t. So he normally used them to burn off steam.

Hakuryuu didn’t follow as rigid of a schedule as Judar did, though.

“How many of those do you do?” Hakuryuu asked as Judar was doing his evening push ups using the bottom of a chest to hold his feet.

Hakuryuu was normally cooking then, so this was the first time he’d seen Judar exercising. With clear interest he sat nearby.

“Dunno. As many as I feel like it.”

Hakuryuu didn’t respond. Judar could tell that he was counting.

“Weren’t you gonna cook or something?”

“It’s baking.”

He watched until Judar was covered in sweat and breathing hard. Judar normally stopped when he started to get sweaty, because he was _not_ running around all day smelling. With Hakuryuu watching, he pushed himself a little farther.

When he finished, Hakuryuu stood. “One hundred and eighty three.”

“I did a bunch before you came, too,” Judar bragged.

“…I have to check on dinner.”

Judar watched his rukh as he left. 

Why was he so worried?

Judar ate a few bites of Hakuryuu’s food before bathing.

It was _fine_. Rinse and repeat.

And it was fine. Until he was well into a week of that, when his appetite suddenly came back full force.

When Judar didn’t eat things were easy and normal. When he did, he became hungry. And it wasn’t just a little ‘guess I’ll eat a peach’ hunger. It was the kind of hunger that completely occupied his thoughts, not letting him focus, thinking only of the smell of food and filling his mouth with saliva, telling him if he was going to do anything it was to eat just eat nothing but eating was important.

It was the worst feeling in the world. Once he got to that point, he really didn’t have the restraint to stop. He might leave the meal Hakuryuu cooked for lunch half unfinished, but it was only so he could eat peaches later where no one could see him stuffing his face with not two bites from each peach but eating the whole things even if he dropped them in dirt, bruised them, squished them between his fingers, he was hungry and still ate them until his stomach was too full and felt large as he curled into sit ups.

He really couldn’t justify eating thanks to that. It sucked, because sometimes he did just want to eat. Especially when Hakuryuu wanted to eat next to him and not anywhere else.

Turning his nose up at those breakfasts was pretty hard. At least Sinbad soon gave him the excuse to focus on something else.

But they couldn’t fight Sinbad forever. Even that could only take so long.

\---

“You aren’t a magi anymore,” Hakuryuu said. Though it should’ve been a sad thing, his voice was filled with relief. “I made too much lunch. Come have some.”

Judar bit his lip. Hakuryuu pushed at his waist gently in the direction of his set table.

“It tastes better if you eat it warm,” he said. “Do you have any favorites? Other than peaches. I can make them.”

“Don’t baby me,” Judar said. He pulled his face into what he felt was a convincing sneer, but Hakuryuu just rolled his eyes, smile unwavering.

“Don’t be a baby then.”

…Hakuryuu was right. He wasn’t a magi anymore. There was no reason to be like this. But he couldn’t stop. In a way food had won. In a way he was scared of it. Wasn’t that funny! A great (former) magi driven completely into the ground by something as simple as food.

He ate. Slowly as usual, but without dirt nearby to push every other bite into, and without the painful expectation of otherworldly power, somehow, he managed.

He requested a Parthevian specialty. Hakuryuu made it for dinner. He ate it even though his stomach still felt swollen from his half-plate at lunch.

Serendine used to make it, but she wasn’t as skilled of a chef as Hakuryuu. The familiarity clenched up his throat. It felt like the urge to vomit.

“Tell me what you want for breakfast tomorrow. Lunch and dinner, too. You’re not getting out of it, so don’t try. Just answer honestly.”

He knew why Hakuryuu was doing this. It was because he knew that Judar no longer had the control over himself to eat. Maybe he never had it. But that was fine. Relinquishing control to Hakuryuu was fine. Good, even. If he had no trust in himself, in Hakuryuu was naturally where he placed it.

Without thinking too hard he ate a plate of what Hakuryuu made at each meal and two plates when he made too much while stressing over politics.

“Don’t exercise so much anymore, either. One hundred sit-ups a day. That’s all you can do.”

Judar just nodded.

Slowly but surely, his weight rose. Along with it came more attention. Like always. But this time it was attention he liked.

As it turned out, Hakuryuu was less attracted to his upper ribs and more attracted to his muscles. Plus, when he compared himself to Hakuryuu, he was still thinner. His vision just warped when he was alone.

It was easy to find the attraction Judar used to have for Hakuryuu, too. It was weird how that worked. Human bodies were weird.

That was what it was. A human body that needed human food and liked to lay with its human lover, who just so happened to be a pretty good human chef.

Was there really something wrong with that? It often felt like there was. He didn’t think of himself on the same level as other humans, even if he knew he was now. Because there had been a time where he was chosen as a magi. His powers being stolen didn’t change that. It was obvious in that he was still a magician of a higher caliber than most.

…But that was the kind of logic that got him into this mess in the first place. So he just let Hakuryuu do the thinking.


End file.
